


Restraint

by BuddyTheMeanPeacock



Series: The Crest of Riegan [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Blood, Gen, M/M, Mostly Dimitri and Claude but Felix is still important, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), one other character but they're mentioned like once lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21825280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddyTheMeanPeacock/pseuds/BuddyTheMeanPeacock
Summary: Dimitri winces. "My apologies Claude, but they must be tight. I'm afraid this is all I am capable of doing for you."In the silence of the woods Felix's whisper echoed."Not all you can do."
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Claude von Riegan, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: The Crest of Riegan [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563514
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	Restraint

**Author's Note:**

> For short context: Dimitri and Felix have personally seen what the Crest of Riegan does. Long context: read parts 1 and 3 of the Crest of Riegan series (maybe part 2 as well? For how Claude feels i guess lol)

"If he does anything we're leaving him."

Dimitri's breath caught in his throat, a minor interruption to his bandaging Claude's horrific wound. A spear to the gut from a desperate Imperial soldier trying to rid of one of her enemy's leaders, charging in alone while the three of them gathered their bearings. Felix cut her down immediately after, her unmoving body landing harshly on the ground, but the damage was done. After the initial panic Dimitri raced to Claude to perform what little field medicine he could remember.

Dimitri didn't look up from his work to face the swordsman, continuing with the make-shift bandages made from his cloak. "We cannot leave him Felix. I won't allow it."

"Tch. A boar and a demon. How fitting you would care for him."

 _"Felix!"_ He did look up at that, seeing the man's head turned away from them. 

He heard a choked chuckle come from the man in his care. "Some... bedside manner you've got there. Can't... even pretend... to be nicer to an injured man?"

Dimitri turned his gaze back to Claude. He had a pained smirk on his face, but he looked to neither of them.

"Not when I know how you get rid of those injuries," Felix answered, his words colder than the deepest of Faerghus winters. Claude's lips faltered to them, and then fell entirely with a hiss as Dimitri tightened the clothes around his abdomen.

Dimitri winced. "My apologies Claude, but they must be tight. I'm afraid this is all I am capable of doing for you."

Separated from the army, with no healing tonics, and with enemies still mulling about. It was a troubling situation even without Claude sustaining such a grievous wound.

In the silence of the woods Felix's whisper echoed.

"Not _all_ you can do."

He clenched his jaw to keep quiet but felt Claude tense under him. "I'm not... using that," Claude hissed out, in a rare if quiet moment of anger. "Not on allies." He threw a rapid glance to Dimitri, green eyes pained but determined, before looking away again. "Not on friends. I would _never_."

He knew what Claude spoke of- and evidently Felix knew as well. The horrific power that was the only reason Claude was still capable of speech and not already unconscious.

"Let us keep moving," Dimitri says, hoping to alleviate at least some of the tension. "We have to find the others. Can you stand, Claude?"

He wrapped his arm around the archer's shoulders and slowly stood, Claude's weak grasp barely enough to follow suit. He leaned heavily against his armor, his head turned downward as he panted deep breaths. "I'm not... winnin' any races... but I'm with you. Let's go."

Felix said nothing, wordlessly taking the lead as Dimitri and Claude followed. The air was silent, the wind and Claude's quiet, labored breathing the only noise to disturb the peace as they made their way through the foreign woods. Dimitri tried his best to keep it from being so, but Claude's condition had panic settle firmly within his bones. Going faster would alert any nearby soldiers, forcing their eyes off Claude to drive them away- one could potentially sneak around the fighting and execute the man right there, never minding the worsened state his injury would be in from the quickened pace. This slow trek is beset with its own downfalls however, taking longer to get help that was needed right now. As they passed a small alcove an idea took root within Dimitri. He took a breath.

"Felix, go on ahead of us."

The swordsman turned sharply at the whisper. "What nonsense are you blathering, boar?"

"We could be surrounded, and we've strayed much farther than anticipated," Dimitri tried to explain, hoping he sounded more calm than he was. "All three of us going this pace could spell death for Claude, but having only one of us go ahead would be faster. You're quicker, and have a far better memory of landmarks than I do. I trust you can find help-"

A grunt interrupted him. "And leave you alone with _that?_ "

Dimitri's breath caught in his throat. Anger and disappointment swelled within his chest and burst into wildfire spreading through his blood. He hasn't felt such a way towards any of his childhood friends since Ingrid revealed her wretched views of Duscur some odd years ago.

 _"Felix,"_ he growled out, unable to fully retain his frustration. He watched as Felix glared at him, body tensing in anticipation of a fight, and he felt himself returning the gestures. 

"Hey now boys... no need to fight over me," Claude's weak voice cut in. Dimitri looked down at the archer; his head hung to the side, gaze to the ground as he continued, "I... told you already... nothing's gonna happen..."

The pain overtaking Claude's words threw cold water on the flames of anger within Dimitri. He looked back to Felix, his rage turning to a pitiful, pleading spark. "Please, Felix."

The swordsman held his glare for a moment longer before scoffing, a grimace taking over his face. "Pathetic, begging to be food to appease his hunger. Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you when he tries to feed."

He stood there a second longer, an indecipherable look taking hold of his face, before he turned away from them.

"Disarm him," he says. He set off before Dimitri could argue.

He felt Claude move under his arm. Looking down at him he watched as he reached for the back of his strange sash, his panting worsening from the movements. Without looking up Claude presented a dagger to Dimitri.

"Only thing… on me…" he managed to get out. 

Dimitri wanted so badly to tell Claude to keep it; there was no point in taking it, for he knew Claude would not use it. But he knows Felix as well, knows that if he were to see the dagger still with its owner he would grow enraged at Dimitri's supposed naivete. Straining their already tenuous relationship even further was something he desperately wanted to avoid; Claude's readiness to give away his only means of self-defense gives him hope that the archer understands his meaning when he takes the offered weapon and stashes it away under what remained of his cape.

"Come, Claude. Just a bit more; I need to lie you down further in," Dimitri says. A grunt was given in response and they slowly made their way some feet further within the alcove. Despite his efforts to lay Claude down gently he still groaned in pain. He turned his head away from Dimitri.

With just the two of them nothing could block the wet, heavy breathing coming from his friend, the darkness of the night not enough to hide the paled and flushed skin nor the blood seeping through his clothes. He could not offer himself to ease Claude's suffering; from his words earlier he had no doubt the man would never forgive himself were he to allow it, if he could live to feel such after Felix found the injured prince and healed archer. Nothing could adequately describe what he felt as he watched Claude lay there, helpless to do anything. No words described the void of guilt and frustration that cloaked him like a second skin, nor the endless worry eating away at him from each passing second they stayed here.

"I'm sorry," he lets out. Charging ahead and leaving everyone behind- everyone but the only two who had eyes on him. His words caught in his throat, guilt setting him on fire as he clenched his fists. 

He watches as Claude scoffs, his body rising and falling at the action. "Don't… worry your pretty little head off," he says to the air. "I've lived through worse than this. Long as your… lovely friend doesn't take his sweet time… I'll be alright…"

The words do nothing to assuage him, but he nods nonetheless, though Claude could not see it. A moment passes where nothing is said, and once more Claude's breaths echo relentlessly in Dimitri's ears, until finally he can stand being so close no longer.

"I will keep watch at the mouth," he announces before doing so, not waiting for a response. He receives none even after he settles himself away from Claude.

So it stayed, with Dimitri keeping a lookout for his distant friend from his isolated seat away from Claude, the man's noises quieter but no less disconcerting. At what he hoped were regular intervals he would get up to check on him, fearing gripping his legs and shaking his hands as he made sure Claude had not joined the ranks of the dead. He knew he should stay constantly by his side, be sure he was still awake, but he told himself he needed to be sure they were not found out, and that Claude was doing fine keeping himself aware without his presence.

 _Quite_ fine, in fact. His latest self-assurance had him witness Claude pull his hand into a white-knuckle tight fist, his breaths coming slower and deeper. He had simply asked if he was alright- a foolish question, but the only he could think to ask. 

Claude didn't answer; he turned his head slowly toward Dimitri.

He recognized the wide-eyed stare. He watched as Claude gazed at him… no, gazed _around_ him, above and to his immediate sides.

He clenched his jaw and his fist as he sat at his self assigned post, fighting back angry voices that mirrored his self-loathing at his need to get away convincing him to do so. It was treason, a breach of Claude's trust to feel-

He stiffened, thoughts and voices crashing to silence against his skull as arms wrapped around him from behind.

" _Dimitri…_ "

"Yes?" He answers instinctively, a courage filling his voice but not his mind as the croaking voice spoke from behind him.

"I'm… so hot…"

His heart beat against his chest, threatening to burst as the heat of fear coursed through him. "You might be running a fever," he offers. He is unsure who is talking for him, for he is sure his lips are too frozen to give any response, his mind racing too fast to form coherent sentences.

He felt the arms shift, watched as they shuffled as a bare hand reached for his face before he could register what was happening.

The hand made contact.

He spat out a noise and flinched from the touch.

It was _scorching._ It felt as though he had just placed heated metal against his skin.

This was no fever.

"I'm… so… _hot…"_

Dimitri swallowed. "You must be worse than we thought," his mouth lets out. "You should go lay back down-"

"You're... so... _cold."_

His heart stopped.

"Your… cold… I don't… want to… but..." and his voice dropped, barely a whisper, "I… _want_ it…"

"You are mistaken, Claude. I am actually quite warm," he mindlessly counters, even though his blood has stopped flowing, even though his thoughts are locked in ice. "You're unwell. Let us hope Felix is soon to return."

A moment passes, both men unmoving, still as the rocks that surround them. Dimitri felt as though he had as much life as they did as well. 

Finally, after the river of time ran dry, he heard Claude answer with a simple "Mmm…" He felt the arms on his shoulders shift, and he turned slowly to Claude and helped him back to his position resting on the ground. His eyes were off Dimitri the whole way.

"...I'm…" Claude breathed out, "so… sorry…" His breath hitched and Dimitri watched as his jaw tightened. "I… I-"

Dimitri placed a hand on Claude's. This side of Claude, so regretful and vulnerable, was so _foreign_ , so unlike the man he knew. "Do not apologize; you did nothing, just as you promised." For it was the truth, and he will not have Claude drown in shame for his restraint, no matter how close he came to breaking it.

His words and presence seem to calm him, his breaths still pained but from a different, more obvious source. They remained like this until Dimitri heard the sound of two footsteps deliberately enter the cave, and he moved out of the way for Mercedes to give the healing Claude so desperately needed. He watched as she removed the bloodied ribbons of his cape and placed her glowing hands to the gaping wound, watched as it stitched itself back together under the warm light.

Watched as Claude's hands returned to their ashen grip.

"Well?"

He jumped at Felix's voice and turned to face the man, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes as sharp as the sword at his side. Dimitri did not need to ask the motive behind the question. His mind takes notice of the unfamiliar weight to his side, and he takes a moment to look back at Claude. 

The man was looking at him, much of the agony that plagued his face gone in favor of a guarded, neutral expression. He turned away at Dimitri's gaze.

He allows a small smile to cross his face as he turned back to Felix. "All was well. You needn't have worried about anything."

**Author's Note:**

> Lucky Dimitri, eh?


End file.
